


And We're Walking

by Catsmeow



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-14
Updated: 2009-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-04 10:31:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsmeow/pseuds/Catsmeow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Daniel on an easy mission off-world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We're Walking

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in June 2006

"Jack, are we late for something?" Daniel reached a hand up to hold the branch that Jack had pushed aside. The path through the forest wasn't quite wide enough for the two men to walk side by side so Jack took the lead. He was considerate enough to hold the branches until Daniel could put a hand up to them instead of getting smacked by them. But Jack was moving so fast that Daniel had had to lunge once or twice to catch the branch in time.

"No, why?" Jack looked at him curiously.

"Well we're going awfully fast."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "You want to see it, don't you?" He strode quickly over the rocky ground, as sure-footed as a mountain goat. Despite the constant shade, the temperature was on the warm side already this morning. He gripped his P-90 firmly so it wouldn't bounce against him as he walked.

"Well, sure," agreed Daniel, adjusting his glasses. "But it's only a couple of miles from the village and we have all day to get there and back. Why are you hurrying?"

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. You keep getting way ahead of me."

"I can't help it if my legs are longer than yours."

"They are not."

"I'm taller than you."

"Only two inches. That doesn't mean your legs are longer."

Jack raised one eyebrow. "Sure it does."

"It does not. And anyway, anytime I've worn your pants –"

Surprised, Jack interrupted. "My pants? How often do you get in my pants, Daniel?" Jack's step faltered for a second as he realized what he said. "Crap. That didn't come out right."

Daniel snickered. "Gee. Ya think?"

Jack had already returned to the fast pace he had set early on. "Okay. Rephrasing now. When have you worn my pants?"

Daniel shrugged, then had to adjust the strap on his backpack. "Just a couple of times over the years, really, when the base laundry has sent your BDU's to me by mistake. The pants fit fine in the leg, though the waist is too big. I just cinch my belt a little tighter and they're okay."

Jack turned his head to give Daniel the Evil Eye. "Are you calling me fat, Doctor Jackson?"

As usual, the Evil Eye just seemed to bounce right off of Daniel, who just rolled his eyes in return. "No, I'm just saying that although we have different builds, our legs are the same length. You must have noticed the same thing when you put my pants on."

"I've never worn your pants." Jack wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Their route lay across several hills, each a little higher than the last.

Daniel looked surprised. "But, when the laundry gives me your BDU's, don't you end up with mine?"

Jack remembered the handful of times over the years when his BDU pants suddenly had been difficult to fasten. Never in a million years would he admit to the panicked frenzy of diet and exercise he fell into each time the tight waistband cut into his belly. Of course, now that he knew it was _Daniel's_ pants that set off the frenzy, it certainly explained the miraculous overnight results he kept getting. Heh. So much for the fast metabolism he was so proud of, dammit. As soon as he got home, the snack cakes were going in the trash.

"I've never noticed a thing." Nothing like a little bald-faced lie to help a man keep his dignity.

"Oh?" Daniel looked puzzled. "Well, if I have your BDU's and you have yours too, then what happened to my BDU's? Why would there be two sets of yours and none of mine?" Daniel thought of all the times that clothes seemed to go missing from his own laundry at home. It was usually the odd sock or two but every now and then he seemed to misplace a shirt or suddenly have very few underpants. If that kind of thing happened to an individual like him on a small scale, then what kind of trouble would a big commercial-style operation such as the laundry for the entire SGC run into? Of course, that might explain why _some_ things go missing but how could the laundry lose an entire _matched set_ of Daniel's stuff? And why would the laundry be issuing Jack's BDU's to both Jack AND Daniel? Unless they knew what was going on and were trying to cover it up?

Without realizing it, as he concentrated on the Great Laundry Conspiracy, Daniel slowed a bit. Soon he was several paces behind Jack. He caught the tip of his boot on a tree root and stumbled. Jack heard him and turned with a frown.

"Could you at least _try_ to keep up?" Jack snarked.

"Well if you weren't racing through the jungle, maybe I could." Daniel was getting annoyed. It's not like they were on a smooth road. This was a winding path through the trees in hilly terrain. Between the tree roots and the rocks that were tumbled all over the place it was a wonder he wasn't constantly tripping or stubbing his toes.

"I don't race." Jack said emphatically. "I walk like a perfectly normal person."

"Jack, you're walking really fast."

"I am not. You just think so because you walk so slowly."

"I do not."

"You do too." Jack looked back at him accusingly. "You dawdle."

"I do not," huffed Daniel, then threw out an accusation of his own. "You lope."

"You stroll!"

"You traipse!"

"You're like that dog in that book." Jack trotted easily down the slope, stepped across the tiny stream at the bottom, and kept moving up the next hill without changing speed.

"What dog?" Daniel waved his arms, sliding a little on the rocks as he came down and getting one foot in the stream. "What, what _book_?" He trudged up the next hill, wishing Jack would slow down a bit.

"You know that picture book for little kids about that little dog that's always late because it's so slow?"

Daniel had to run that one through his Jack Translator. He wondered how many valuable sections of his brain were completely devoted to Understanding What The Hell Jack Meant. If he ever managed to free up those sections he would probably have room in his head for at least three of the more conventional languages, or possibly even a download of an Ancient Repository. Okay, maybe not an _entire_ Repository, but maybe he could download some of it. "Are you talking about 'The Pokey Little Puppy', Jack?"

"That's the one!" Jack smiled, pleased that Daniel had figured it out. "The Pokey Little Puppy was always getting left behind too. But don't worry, everybody liked him anyway," he said soothingly.

Puppy? Jack just compared him to a _puppy_? Daniel was definitely pissed now. "Well, you're acting like the Road Runner the way you're sprinting off into the distance. I half expect to hear you say Meep! Meep! and zip off in cloud of dust."

"Hey," Jack was more than willing to meet sarcasm with sarcasm, "it's not my fault you're a stubby-legged dawdler. If you want to get mad at someone, get mad at Darwin. That kind of thing is genetic, you know."

"I hope the Coyote gets you," Daniel said bitterly, panting slightly as the path wound up a steeper hill. Minutes later, they reached the top. It didn't' take long to find what they had come to see.

"This? _This_ is the Well of Souls?" Disappointment was written all over Daniel's face.

The two men looked at the dilapidated stone structure on top of the hill. The so-called Well of Souls that the Shaman had told them about was maybe five feet across and less than three feet deep. The bottom of the Well was covered with the same hard packed ground as the rest of the area. The stones that lined it were all out of alignment and quite a few had tumbled down and were lying in sad little heaps on the bottom. The trees were almost as thick up here as they were everywhere else, so there wasn't even a nice view to console them.

Jack didn't care about the Well one way or another, but it bothered him to see Daniel so forlorn. Looking around, he spied something scratched into some of the larger rocks scattered nearby and pointed those out to Daniel. "There are some inscriptions over here," he said enticingly.

Daniel visibly perked up and trotted over. Squatting down, he examined the rocks, carefully brushing off dirt and leaves with his hand. After a few minutes, he sighed and looked unhappy again, but at least he didn't look as unhappy as he had at first.

"Daniel?"

"Jack?"

Jack gestured to the rocks. "The inscriptions? Are they secret rites? Mystic knowledge? Ancient ceremonies?"

"No." Daniel shook his head, eyes downcast.

"No?"

Daniel sighed again. "Not unless it's a mystical secret that Egarm loves Porsipha, Terblin was here and, apparently, Junilla gives good, um," Daniel blushed slightly and made a graphic gesture with one hand, "good, um, you know."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

There was silence for a minute as they both nodded and looked around. Jack shifted his grip on his weapon. Daniel poked a hole in the dirt with his finger.

"Sooooo, we came all this way for a dinky broken-down Well full of dirt and some smutty graffiti?"

Daniel's shoulders drooped. "Yeah."

Jack considered this for a minute, and then reached down and patted him lightly on the shoulder. "Hey, you know what they say, Daniel. It's not the destination but the journey itself that matters."

Daniel looked up at him thoughtfully. "That's pretty deep, Jack."

"Compared to that Well, what wouldn't be?"

"Ha. Ha." Daniel sounded sarcastic, but at least he smiled at Jack as he stood up, brushing off the back of his pants.

If they started back now, they could be back at the village in time for lunch. Jack turned back toward the path. "Come on," he said, gesturing for Daniel to join him. "Let's get this journey on the road."

finis


End file.
